lived in Austin for three years and had recently purchased the salon. Emma not only gave a damn good haircut, but she was an absolute sweetheart. Before leaving the salon, he asked her out to dinner. It took him a month to get into her panties—which was unheard of for him—and another before he put her on the back of his bike. Tonight was the first night she’d been at his place.
And now Sage was back. And she was hurt.
Ax pulled up to the gate and nodded at Ego and Art. They were the club’s new prospects. Ego was funny as hell, but he hadn’t gotten to know Art yet.
Steele and Doc were standing in the driveway. Ax pulled up beside them and rolled down his window. “I want her in my cage.”
Steele shook his head. “Brother, she’s hurt. It might be serious. Park your truck and ride with us.”
Steele was right; they didn’t know the play. For Ax to fight it, would be stupid. He pulled into the closest parking spot, turned off the engine, and exited the truck, locking the doors behind him.
The moment Steele found out LuLu was carrying his kid, he went out and bought the biggest SUV he could find. He then had the fucking thing taken on a flatbed all the way to North Carolina, to Max McLellan’s garage, in order to get it kitted out.
Years ago, before joining the club, Ax and Buck worked for a nut job named Dooley Shane. They didn’t know it at the time, but Dooley’s main source of revenue came from fencing stolen bike parts. At the time, Max was one of Dooley’s clients, which was how Ax came to know him. Steele knew Max because of his mad skills at building both cars and bikes. McLellan’s garage was renown—by far the best in Texas. Once he’d made his millions, Max downsized to one garage, located in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Ax followed Steele and Doc to the Black Mamba—the name LuLu had given their new Ford Expedition.
“I’ll take the back, that way I can stretch out before I’m needed,” Doc said.
Ax hopped into the front and Steele started the engine. “It’s going to be okay,” he announced before shifting into drive and pulling out of the garage. Neither Ax nor Doc bothered to respond.
An hour into the drive, Steele turned on the radio. Doc snored in the backseat while Ax kicked back in the front, his mind wandering to when he first met Sage.
Ax’s dad passed when he was ten. His mother, Thelma—born way before the movie—was Grizz’s only sister. After his dad’s death, they moved to Austin to be near family. While his mom drowned her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle, he spent most of his time at Uncle Grizz and Aunt Vicky’s house—which meant he also spent a lot of time at the club. The year he joined as a prospect was the same year Gibby was officially patched in. He took Ax under his wing and they became tight. Gibby was a wild man, a partier through and through. There wasn’t a beer he didn’t like nor a woman he wouldn’t fuck. It was during Ax’s second year as a prospect that Gibby hooked up with Sage. Christ, she was barely nineteen at the time. She was young and gorgeous, possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She was a dark-haired, blue-eyed trash talker with a tiny body and a killer rack. She could party like a fucking rock star, argue any point—and make you believe she was right, even when she wasn’t—and she could sing like an angel. Sage was the whole package, and Ax wanted her . . . but she belonged to Gibby.
After two years of dating, Gibby proposed. Ax had to admit, he was surprised when Gibby told him he wanted to put a ring on it. He was a great guy and all, but he wasn’t exactly the settling down type. This bothered Ax, mostly because it didn’t seem to bother Sage. Gibby was a player, a borderline alcoholic who was too busy getting his drink on and fucking anything with a pussy to realize the beauty he’d been given. That Sage refused to see this . . . well, suffice it to say that he just didn’t get it.
When Sage got pregnant, Gibby was at an all-time low. He was stepping out on her, barely ever at home, and drunk all the time. Not only